


Blowing hot and cold

by cat_thy_yours



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is a Prat, Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Humor, and merlin is stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:47:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_thy_yours/pseuds/cat_thy_yours
Summary: Merlin does something stupid and Arthur won't let him live it down.





	Blowing hot and cold

"That's why I keep saying, _Sire_ , that we should stop going on those stupid hunting trips."

Merlin was irritated and wasn't trying to hide it. The royal prat had had the wonderful idea this morning of leaving the cosy citadel for the sake of wandering the forest in search of innocent animals to kill. For hours. In the rain. Merlin wasn't irritated, he was _exasperated_.

Now they were finally back to Camelot after the insufferable prince had finally accepted the fact that he wouldn't get to bring back more than a pheasant this time around. Merlin would have definitely taunted the disgruntled man, claiming something about a rabbit besting him in a game of patience, if only he hadn't been so eager to leave the wet forest himself. With his clothes hugging him tight like an uncomfortable second skin, he hadn't needed one word more from the prince to mount his horse again.

"Yes, _Mer_ lin," Arthur drawled as he strode in his chambers, a hand ruffling his hair and sending small droplets of water into Merlin's face. Prat. "Because obviously you predicted this downpour after studying the very clear skies of this morning. Perhaps it was one of your funny feelings? How come you didn't warn me?"

Merlin dropped his soaked vest and neckerchief to the floor before proceeding to rid Arthur of his own wet clothes. The prince seemed to hesitate between boredom and annoyance as the servant tried to work his way around the knots of his tunic. So many damn knots and laces. Royal clothing was almost as much of a pain as the one wearing it.

"Oh, I am so sorry my lord," Merlin shot back insolently, half his mind focusing on getting Arthur out of his tunic while the prince took his sheathed sword in his hand to put it out of the way. Only the table was too far for him to reach without hindering Merlin in his task, and so he ended up holding it uselessly at his side, making Merlin's life just that much more difficult in the process. Really, was it so hard to just stand still? Merlin huffed. "I was sure your egoistical highness wouldn't listen to reason anymore than usual, what with being a prattish clotpole and all."

The servant took the sword from its owner in one hand while the other struggled to get the tunic off the prince. Arthur frowned at him, either from the insult or from having his weapon stolen from his grip. "Maybe I could start listening to you when you stop abusing language with the use of words that don't make any sense."

"It's your idea of entertainment that doesn't make sense," Merlin retorqued, eyeing the bloody tunic he had finally managed to get off the other man. "Why would anyone want to spend hours crouching on muddy terrain for the sole pleasure of-"

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of reddish brown on the sword's handle. Was that rust?

"-using a cross-bolt on some prey any other qualified and actually remunerated person in this kingdom could have brought back for us instead, sparing us both the wasted time and energy-"

It _was_ rust. He glared at the tiny spot of damaged metal as if he could make it disappear somehow. Which he probably could, had he willed it so. His glare deepened with the irrational urge to use magic to get rid of the offending stain, urge in which he obviously couldn't indulge at the moment. Sneaky bloody rust.

"-and pointless risk of roaming off-track paths in a vulnerable state for all opportunistic bandit groups to see. Really Sire, if you want to please the kitchens so badly I could always help you get a position in dishwashing, I'm sure they'd be quite thankful for the extra help."

He went to reach for the sword's handle so as to scrub the rust off only to remember he was still holding the soaked tunic in his other hand. As much as it wouldn't have bothered him to dirty the royal clothing with the sword's rust, he wasn't exactly looking forward to cleaning rusty clothes either. His mind sputtered incoherently as he tried to convince it to find a solution to his dilemma, mainly how to remove the rust _quickly_ and _immediately_ without having to dirty the prince's garment. Half a second later, he got struck by a burst of inspiration.

He blew on it.

Which, obviously, didn't work.

The legendary warlock stared down at the rusted metal, dumbfounded. Had he really just attempted to _blow_ rust off?

"Did you just try to _blow_ rust off?"

Merlin looked up to see Arthur watching him, half naked and dripping wet, an almost disconcerted look on his face.

"Of course not," the servant said quickly, eyes widening despite himself at his own incredulity.

He could feel the tip of his ears turn red. Damnit.

"Of course not," Arthur parroted, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips as he raised an eyebrow in a prattish imitation of Gaius.

Merlin tore his gaze away in sudden embarrassement that he refused to acknowledge. He dropped the prat's tunic on the floor -why in the hell hadn't he done so sooner?- and walked up to the desk, being careful to be especially careless in the way he half threw the damn metal stick on its surface. So what if there was a bit of rust in the place over which the royal arse would put his hand? A bit of discomfort would be good for him and his stupid ideas of going out in the rain.

"What's wrong Merlin?" Arthur purred at his back, a sickening joy pervading his voice. "Are you perhaps _blowing_ your cool?"

Oh no. Nope. No way. Merlin would _not_ allow himself to be the subject of Arthur's crappy jokes. He deserved better than that.

"No Sire," he willed his tone to be casual, "Only trying to understand why getting that tunic off you proved to be so difficult." He bent to pick up his vest and neckerchief. "I suspect it might have been hugging your prattish figure a little too tight, for some reason I could not possibly fathom."

He sent a pointed look at the prince's bare tummy as he said so before casting a swift glance at his face.

The blond prat was smiling with open glee. Curse him. He usually took the bait.

"Now now, Merlin," Arthur said as he crossed his arms before him, sounding insufferably pleased with himself for some god forsaken reason. "You know you shouldn't _blow_ smoke about such things, people shouldn't be mislead into thinking my figure is anything less than perfect."

Merlin couldn't help the scowl that took hold of his expression. Casual be damn. "You are the most childish prat I've ever met. I worry for Camelot's future."

If anything, Merlin's earnest irritation only seemed to fuel the prince's ever-lasting grin. His eyebrows disappeared into his wet bangs in mock surprise. "Your level of concern is mind- _blowing_."

That's it. He'd had enough. Merlin would not stand for ridiculous abuse any longer. Directing one last somber glare at the prince for good measure, he went for the exit in heavy, purposeful steps, which almost caused him to knock down an unsuspecting and unsuspected Gwen bursting in through the door. He barely acknowledged her before finally reaching the corridor and striding off.

As he slowed his pace to appear sufficiently indignant rather than obviously fleeing, he heard Gwen asking Arthur about his behavior. The prince answered loudly enough for Merlin to hear through both stone and distance, and he hated him all the more for it.

"Let him be," Arthur said, "he just needs to _blow_ off some steam!"

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were like me and you didn't know, to blow one's cool means to lose one's composure, and to blow smoke is to try to mislead or trick.  
> So many idioms with 'blow' in it... I regret not having used more (I'm sure Arthur does too *snicker*).  
> I'm not a native english speaker so feel free to correct mistakes.


End file.
